


Beautiful

by heymacareyna



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Horror, Murder, Netflix and Chill, Original Character Death(s), Unreliable Narrator, Wendip, embalming, hello naughty children it's murder time, psychotic!dipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5748691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heymacareyna/pseuds/heymacareyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper admires Wendy and plans to keep her around long-term. </p><p>Fluff underscored by an unreliable narrator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful

Wendy had fallen asleep with her fingertips grazing the stubble on Dipper’s jawline. Warm and content, he stroked the edge of her hair where it had bunched up a little against the back of the couch, careful not to disturb her. Her natural red had darkened with age, but still entranced him just as much as it had when he’d first laid eyes on her at twelve years old. And now, despite monsters and demons and the awkwardness of puberty, here they were. Netflix murmured and cast flickering colors against their intertwined limbs.

 _What would Mabel think of the sight?_ he caught himself wondering. His sister had teased him mercilessly about his once unrequited crush on Wendy, ironic given her own fickle boy-craziness. But it had been a long time since he’d heard his twin’s voice. Sometimes he regretted that life had taken them in two different directions, but they were part of each other in a way that time and space and interdimensional demons could never hope to breach. Mabel and Dipper were intertwined, forever and always half of each other’s hearts. She’d never be far in truth.

He drew one knee up at Wendy’s hip to get comfortable, and when she shifted atop him in response to the movement, his scientist’s eye marveled at the shadows of bone and tendon that appeared and disappeared. His woman, _his_ , was such a glory—a creation he could spend his whole life exploring. No other woman, he suspected, would ever brand herself on him in the same way.

One hand following the lines of her fingers on his jaw, he let his other trail down her side. The flannel was warm with her body heat, and her jeans clung close to lumberjack-strong muscles. She had told him more than once that she enjoyed his scientific exploration of her body, a fact that he’d appreciated as long as they’d been together. Science was his rock, his mainstay, his filter for the world. For her.

“You awake?” he asked, just to make sure she wasn’t. When she didn’t respond, he went ahead and leaned over to turn off the show they’d been watching. It wasn’t like he had been paying attention, not with a beautiful woman draped over him. And there were more comfortable places they could be than the couch.

The overhead lights were off, making the screen his only source of light, so when he turned it off, the room went almost pitch black. He moved carefully, scooping up his girlfriend and, with muscles only a few years old in terms of any real strength, carrying her into the bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed beside him and curled his body against hers, combing his fingers through her fascinating hair and down the curves of her slim frame. “You are so symmetrical,” he mused with equal parts curiosity and pride, even though he knew full well she couldn’t hear him. He fell asleep that way, perfectly content in his explorations.

They must have shifted in the night, though, because when he awoke in the morning, he was lying on her arm. “Oh, sorry,” he blurted, rolling off and rearranging her where she lay. “Didn’t mean to squish you.” If he ever marred her symmetry, he’d never forgive himself.

She didn’t complain, and when he saw he hadn’t bruised her or anything, the burst of adrenaline faded. He rolled off the bed to brush his teeth and make some breakfast, maybe an omelet or two. He wasn’t great at domestic duties, but eggs he could do, and now he had a lady to take care of. No time to waste.

Once he was ready to greet the day, he propped open the basement door and went back to the bedroom. Wendy lay almost exactly where he’d left her, though she’d rolled onto her back without him to rest against. Vivid red hair fanned out on the sheets, a striking contrast against the forest green. He moved around to the other side and cocked his head to soak in the sight. His woman, on his bed. _She’s so beautiful. And she always will be._

Eventually he remembered he had a schedule to keep, and he leaned over to lace his fingers through hers. “Morning,” he murmured with a smile. No response, but he hadn’t really expected one. She’d never been a morning person.

But he couldn’t let her lie there forever, so he helped her up and moved her around the corner, bracing one elbow against the banister so he wouldn’t slip or drop her going down into the basement. He passed Mabel at the foot of the stairs and said a quick hello without stopping. She understood he was working, just like she always did. Best sister ever.

Dipper laid Wendy out on the fresh table and arranged her to maximum effect. _Take your time,_ he reminded himself. He’d rushed before, and where had it gotten him? A sloppy end product. Not worth the effort at all. And Wendy Corduroy deserved nothing but the best.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her for the thousandth time. “So damn beautiful.”

And she was going to stay that way.

For him.

Only ever for him.

He smoothed his fingertips over her skin just to enjoy the feeling of it once more.

And then he reached for the scalpel.

 

 


End file.
